The utility tram that goes from Lower New Everest roughly 4,400 vertical feet up the North face to the rudimentary beginnings of Upper New Everest is a monumental undertaking in its own right. To “avoid” avalanches and rockslides, it follows the interior of the Japanese Couloir, ending at 25,000 feet. Lattimer soon learns that the interior of the gully offers little protection against the vicissitudes of the elements. Constant vigilance is required to keep the tram system from being completely destroyed. After six months of continuous struggle, desperation finally sets in… and desperation is the mother of invention. Lattimer cuts a narrow trench into the interior of the gully, leaving huge sections of rock intact to serve as tram towers. The tram cables pass through shallow open notches on the top edge of the rock sections. The pulleys below them are housed within the rock itself. The “tram tower” rocks serve as “speed bumps” for loose rocks and snow, slowing them down and diverting them away from the trench.

Eventually, the tram would contain two pressurized gondolas going in opposite directions. The entire trench would be cut out so short tram towers could be installed and covered over with alloy composite to protect the occupants from the outside. But as things stand now the utility gondola is a “sitting duck”, little more than a swaying, open-air death trap. It must be left exposed so that the tram can hoist huge pieces of alloy composite up the steep slope for constructing Upper New Everest, the tower, and everything else. Sobered by this stark reality, Lattimer changes his plans and will not use a tram for the last section of the mountain. Instead, he will drill vertically from the center of the mountain, beginning at Upper New Everest all the way to the summit; a daunting task to be sure, considering that the vertical distance to be covered from Upper New Everest to Everest Heights is 3,500 feet, leaving only 535 vertical feet remaining to make it to the summit. There will be two sets of elevator shafts, one for passengers and one large open-air, utility elevator used for hauling equipment to the top.

“I never knew I was going to be an astronaut, boss,” Jose says to Lattimer through his protective gear.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Lattimer replies. “Just wait till you get on top of the mountain!”

“I can wait, I can wait!” Jose replies.

They speak to each other through transmitters within the helmets of their pressurized, heated spacesuits. Even so, they can barely hear each other through the wind. Both men are at the Upper New Everest site, over two-third’s of the distance up the mountain. A primitive, primary shaft has been blown out of the side of the mountain to a depth of about 100 feet.

“I tell you Jose, you think Lower New Everest was tough. This place is gonna be a bear to pressurize.”

“How are you gonna do it, boss?” Jose asks. “I mean, with the ice vein problem we had down below, these rocks seem to be rotten inside.”

“It doesn’t matter, Jose. Alloy composite will do the trick. We simply use more of it to withstand the pressure, that’s all.”

“I sure hope you’re right, boss,” Jose says. “I wouldn’t want to get into any trouble this high up.”

“Nor I, Jose, nor I,” Lattimer says. Suddenly, the words of the Sherpa elder loom large in Lattimer’s mind. He was standing right beside Snyder when the Sherpa practically put a curse on him. “So it will be with YOU, Mr. Snyder, and all those who follow you.” Lattimer shudders, then, shrugs off the feeling, muttering to himself, “Superstitious nonsense! Get a grip Lattimer!”

“So how far into the mountain will we need to go before we can begin the vertical drilling, boss?” Jose asks.

“Well, I had to open my big mouth and brag that Upper New Everest needed to be as big or bigger than Lower New Everest,” Lattimer replies. “Apparently Snyder and the investors are taking me at my word. I tell you, Jose. Be careful what you say to people. It can sure come back to bite you in the ass.”

“I know boss, I know,” Jose laughs.

“So, I guess we’ll have to go back at least 1000 feet or more before we can even think about starting the vertical shaft.”

“We need a better way to get rid of the rocks, boss,” says Jose. “The men down below say the rocks are chipping away at the entrance to Lower New Everest.”

“I know, I know,” says Lattimer. “It would have been nice if we could have built everything from the top down. Unfortunately, the logistics just wouldn’t allow for it.”

“One of the bigger rocks almost took out a gondola yesterday,” Jose says. “We have got to replace a better way to do this.”

“When you’re this high up, Jose, things just don’t work they way they do down below. I suppose we could load the rocks into our utility gondola up here. But they’re so heavy, I’m afraid the cable might break. I guess our best bet is to build a utility shaft away from the entrance of Lower New Everest so we can dump the rocks without posing any danger.”

“That will take a lot of time, Señor,” says Jose.

“I know it will, Jose, but I’m afraid it’s the best we can do. I know Snyder seems irrational at times, but I think he’ll listen to reason.”

“I hope you are right, boss man,” says Jose. “Because someone’s gonna get killed by one of those rocks if we keep on doing this.” Lattimer is silent. The Sherpa again looms large in his mind, but he shakes the thought out of his mind.

Lattimer convinces Snyder that the only way to remove the rocks safely from Upper New Everest is through a utility shaft placed far enough away so that it poses no danger to the occupants or personnel down below. This sets the project behind by about three months. His trump card was of course, the PR. Any paying customers in the condos or businesses in Lower New Everest would be turned off by rocks falling from above, and that of course, is bad for business.

Lattimer has also built a small alloy composite factory at Upper New Everest. Raw alloy composite can now be hauled up the trams in a more convenient liquid form, eliminating the need for carrying large bulky pieces of tubing using cables exposed to the elements. Lattimer has cut away the remaining rocks within the trench in the Japanese Couloir and inserted two tubes of alloy composite for the trams, which run in opposite directions. He sprays the outside of the tubes with water, which freezes on impact. The newly formed ice smoothes out the contours of the tubes, rendering it invisible from the outside. More importantly, it now offers protection from rockslides and avalanches. The inspection of Upper New Everest is officially underway.

“Are the tunnels fully pressurized?” asks Snyder over the cell phone. “No leak problems, no heating problems, no lighting problems, no shifting of moorings, no nothing?” Snyder listens intently to the voice on the other end of the line. “So you’re ready for me to come up there again?” he says. “No surprises, this time?” Snyder kicks back in his office chair. “Ok, when do we do it?” he asks. “Tell you what, why don’t we make it early tomorrow morning? That will give us a full day to check everything out from top to bottom. Good enough? Ok, pick me up at my house about 6:00 A.M., ok? See you then, bye.” He clicks the cell phone shut and sits for a few minutes reflecting intently on the situation, then mutters to himself. “Man oh man, I really don’t want to go up there. Guess I better take some Dramamine, maybe a Valium. Hmmm, maybe I could do a video inspection instead. Let them show me around using cameras.” He shakes his head, “Naaah! Nice try, Snyder.”

An electric jeep pulls up to Snyder’s apartment about 6:00 A.M. and Lattimer hops out to retrieve his boss. He rings the bell. No answer. He rings it again.

“Be there in a minute,” Snyder replies. He opens the door wearing a light jacket and pants. Lattimer looks at him disapprovingly.

“There’s no way you’re going up there dressed like that,” Lattimer says. “Better put on some insulated underwear. Dress like you were going on a ski trip.”

“I’ve never been on a ski trip,” says Snyder.

“Well, dress like you were going to the Klondike, then,” Lattimer replies. “Because that’s exactly where you’re going.”

“Ok, ok,” Snyder says, turning back to change his outfit. After he changes, they get in the jeep and travel to the nearest exit where they dismount and pass through an airlock. Lattimer directs him to a second jeep just outside the airlock. Snyder, fully masked, feigns enthusiasm and hops in beside Lattimer. It takes about 20 minutes to get to the base of the tram where they enter the gondola and Snyder takes his second ride up the mountain.

“Deja vu all over again!” he says. “This is just as exciting as the last time!”

“Only you’ll be going up a little higher this time,” Lattimer says, “An additional 4,400 feet or so.”

Snyder shudders slightly, thinking to himself, “25,000 feet!” The gondola quickly glides its way up to the bowels of the mountain, slowing as it reaches the tram port at Lower New Everest. The intercom comes alive again, thanking the passengers for their patronage and suggesting they ride the second tram to Upper New Everest. “So where do we go from here, Mr. Engineer?” Snyder asks.

“Over to the next tram,” says Lattimer as they exit the airlock. Snyder suddenly feels a little light-headed. Although Lower New Everest is now pressurized, there have been recent problems with leakage. Lattimer notices his wavering gait and tells Snyder to get an oxygen tank.

“Man, oh man, this really is Deja vu all over again!” says Snyder, sitting down. “Complete with the dizziness! I thought you said this place was pressurized?”

“It is,” says Lattimer, “sometimes we have to readjust the pressure. You just hit it at a bad time, that’s all. When you’re ready, we’ll enter the next tram. It’s fully pressurized so you’ll have no more problems with breathing.”

“Well, let’s get on it,” Snyder mumbles through the oxygen mask. “I don’t think this is gonna get any better.” Lattimer helps Snyder to his feet and both men hitch a ride on the same small electric vehicle they had used months earlier. “Where is Jose?” Snyder asks.

“He’s at Upper New Everest waiting on us.”

Snyder nods his head in understanding. The two men arrive at the Upper New Everest lower tram port and are about to enter the waiting gondola through the airlock when Snyder notices a loose gathering of workmen surrounding the area and a large blue ribbon blocking the entrance.

“What’s this?” he asks.

One of the workmen hands Lattimer an over-sized pair of scissors. “Here, take this,” Lattimer says handing Snyder the scissors.

Snyder looks at Lattimer, grins approvingly and cuts the ribbon. There are cheers and clapping along with camera clicks and flashes of light. “Hey, I like this!” say Snyder.

“Your gondola, sir!” Lattimer says with a low sweeping bow. Snyder chuckles, as does the crowd around him. He enters with Lattimer following closely behind.

“You got style kid, you know that?” Snyder says to Lattimer as the door slides shut behind them. The gondola hisses as it begins to pressurize. Snyder feels his eardrums begin to bulge in, clasps his ears with his hands. “WOW! Can you do the pressure bit a little slower?”

“Sure, no problem,” Lattimer adjusts a dial and the pressure eases up.

“That’s better,” Snyder yawns to release the pressure in his ears.

“Are you ready to go?” Lattimer asks him.

“Ready as I’ll ever be!”

“Then let’s do it!” Lattimer hits the “ON” switch and the gondola begins slowly exiting the port.

Oh boy,” Snyder thinks, “And I thought the last ride was something!

“You can take your oxygen mask off now,” says Lattimer. The gondola slowly exits the port through the alloy composite-covered tunnel and quickly begins to pick up speed. There are clear acrylic portholes placed along the alloy composite roof. The roof of the gondola consists of reinforced clear acrylic, allowing the passengers to check out the view through the portholes as they pass by them. The angle of ascent is sometimes as steep as 70 degrees, depending upon the contours of the mountain. Snyder notices frost forming on the outside of the windows. “Wow, it must really be getting cold outside!”

“Yeah,” Lattimer replies. “Guess I better turn up the heat some more.”

Suddenly they enter a low cloud formation, which obscures their view. “Whoa, that was freaky!” says Snyder.

“It’s pretty common at this altitude,” Lattimer replies. The gondola continues its rapid ascent until it begins to approach the upper tram port. They are still enveloped in clouds as they slowly enter the dock and come to a halt.

“Well, let’s go,” says Snyder.

“Not yet,” cautions Lattimer. “We still have to form an airlock with the tram port.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” Snyder replies sheepishly. “We’re not in Kansas anymore are we?”

“Not by a long shot,” says Lattimer. Once the airlock is established, a green light clicks on and the gondola door slides open automatically.

“Welcome to Upper New Everest, Mr. Snyder!” Lattimer exclaims. On the other side of the door, stands Jose.

“Hey, welcome to Upper New Everest, Mr. Snyder!” Jose says loudly.

“I must say, this leg of the trip was a breeze compared to the lower tram,” Snyder remarks.

“Hey, a little oxygen and heat work wonders!” Lattimer says.

“It’s also expensive,” mutters Snyder under his breath.

Jose escorts Lattimer and Snyder to yet another electric vehicle for the grand tour of Upper New Everest. Unlike the last visit at Lower New Everest, Lattimer made sure that most of the construction has been completed and everything fully pressurized. The tram deposits them at the western edge of the city. From there, they take a shuttle to the center of the city and the mountain.

“This is absolutely amazing, simply incredible!” Snyder’s voice oozes with admiration and awe. “I just don’t see how you do it, Lattimer, I really don’t. I mean, I’ve seen the plans and all, but to actually be here in person, to actually experience it, it’s just mind boggling!”

Lattimer nods slightly, smiles, and shoots a look of satisfaction at Jose, who responds back in kind.

Snyder continues talking, as if to himself. “We are gonna make some serious money out of this thing! This goes way beyond my expectations! Hey Lattimer, maybe we should give those Sherpa some free tickets so they can see what we’ve done up here. Might be really great PR, what do you think?”

Lattimer’s light mood suddenly turns more somber, as does Jose’s. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, chief,” he replies.

“Why not?” Snyder asks.

“Those Sherpa are from some other time and place,” says Lattimer. “They see us as interlopers. Or worse still, as environmental rapists.”

“Rapists!” replies Snyder. “They oughta come up here and see what you’ve done! Rapists, my ass! What you’ve done is take an inhospitable mountain and...”

Lattimer interrupts, “Domesticated it.”

Snyder hesitates, “Yeah, right. Domesticated it.” He hesitates a moment. “That’s what men do... domesticate things.”

That’s what some men do,” Lattimer thinks to himself. The men are silent as the cart continues down the main thoroughfare of Upper New Everest. True to his word, Lattimer has carved and polished up a fifty-foot high, 500-foot diameter atrium, right in the center of the mountain, virtually identical to the one in Snyderville. As they approach the center of the atrium, Jose brings the cart to a halt.

“Why did you stop?” Snyder asks.

“I want you to see this shaft,” Lattimer says, pointing to a vertical 10-foot diameter column covered by an attractive stainless steel facade. It is similar in structure to alloy composite support columns Snyder has seen throughout the tour. Next to it, dead center in the middle of the atrium is a 30-foot diameter column, also covered by stainless steel.

“What’s so special about these columns?” he asks.

Lattimer steps off the cart and motions for Snyder to follow him. He approaches a door on the smaller column and pushes an elevator button.

“Is this is an elevator shaft?” Snyder asks.

“Yes it is,” says Lattimer. “And I might add, one hell of an elevator shaft, to say the least.” A bell chimes and the door slides open. “After you, Mr. Snyder,” Lattimer says.

Snyder gives Lattimer a puzzled look, then, enters the elevator. Lattimer and Jose follow closely behind and the door begins to shut. The elevator begins its ascent, slowly at first, then, rapidly picks up speed. Snyder looks around the elevator, then, at Lattimer with puzzlement and just a little alarm. There are no floor numbers on the car, only the button that opens the door and an alarm button.

“What the hell kind of elevator is this anyway?” he asks in his thick Bronx accent. Lattimer smiles at him as the ascent continues. After five minutes, Snyder asks again. “How far up does this thing go anyway?”

“Be patient, Sam,” Lattimer responds. The elevator car continues for another five minutes, then, suddenly decelerates rapidly and stops.

“You better bundle up, Sam!” says Lattimer. The door suddenly slides open and Lattimer and Jose step outside. A sudden burst of frigid air enters the car and Snyder quickly bundles up as best he can. He squints his eyes and grits his teeth, waiting for the inevitable loss in air pressure to finish him off. The air may be cold, but it is still very much pressurized. Snyder slowly opens his eyes, and crosses his arms, squeezing them tightly with his hands to hold in body heat.

“Where are we?” he ask, shivering, a note of alarm in his voice.

“Come on out, Sam,” Lattimer commands, his voice suddenly echoing as if he was inside a giant cavern.

Snyder looks at Lattimer with continued confusion and dismay as he steps outside the door. They are in a roughly hewn, 10-foot high, horizontal tunnel with a roof dotted with construction lights. As the door slides shut, Lattimer looks at Snyder and motions for him to follow them halfway into the twenty-foot long tunnel. Smiling, Lattimer raises his head and eyes up to gaze up at the “ceiling” above them. Snyder follows suit. Suddenly his eyes grow wide and he becomes giddy, stumbling backwards, bracing himself against the side of the tunnel that connects to the 10-foot diameter vertical shaft just above them. He continues staring upwards at what seems to be eternity itself! The top of the shaft has a single large sodium lamp, which is only a pinpoint of light 500 feet above them!

Synder is in complete shock. “Is... is that the top of the mountain up there?” he asks.

“I wish,” says Lattimer. “No, Sam. That’s only 500 feet above us. Below us is another 500 feet. That’s as far as we’ve gotten on the shafts. We’ve still got 2,500 more feet to go.”

Snyder looks at Lattimer with amazement. “You mean... you’re gonna drill all the way up to the top of the mountain!?”

“That’s the plan, Sam.”

“What about the last tram?” Snyder asks.

“There’s been a change of plans,” says Lattimer. “There’s not going to be any more trams beyond Upper New Everest. By using this elevator, we can avoid all of the problems we’ve been having with rockslides, avalanches, weather, you name it.”

Sam looks at Lattimer first with bewilderment, then, his face contorts and darkens with anger. “Well, when were you planning to tell me?!!” he asks, the anger in his voice welling up like a volcano about to explode.

“Uh... now?” Lattimer says.

Snyder, totally shocked at this gross breach of protocol begins to choke on his own rage. He stumbles around trying to replace the words he wants so desperately to say to Lattimer. Suddenly he grimaces and keels over, holding his chest.

“You all right Sam?” Lattimer asks in astonishment.

Jose looks at Lattimer with equal alarm. “I told you this wasn’t such a good idea, boss,” he says.

Snyder stumbles and falls to the floor on his backside, still choking and holding his chest.

Jose looks at Lattimer. “We better get him down to the emergency room right away, boss! He’s having a heart attack!”

Lattimer and Jose drag Snyder back into the elevator and it quickly descends back down the shaft.

Judgement Day

The men and women file in slowly, without the usual muffled chatter. Once the meeting begins, you could hear a pin drop. The silence is as solemn and foreboding as the looks on the faces of the people sitting at the boardroom table. At the end, as if on trial, sits Jeff Lattimer, his face ashen. Richard Treinwood, hands folded on the table, clears his throat and begins speaking.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, we all know why we’re here today. So, I suppose there’s no sense in delaying things.” He looks at Lattimer. “Dr. Lattimer, I really don’t know exactly how to begin here, so I guess we’ll start with some sort of an explanation from you.”

Lattimer’s eyes grow wide as he looks around the room at the solemn audience staring at him. He seems to shrink down into his chair as he begins to speak. His throat catches a lump as his voice trails off... He puts his clenched hand to his mouth, as if holding a microphone, and clears his throat.

“Uh, ladies and gentlemen, I really don’t know what to say at this point, except to say that I’m really sorry about what happened to Sam Snyder.”

Treinwood speaks up, “Dr. Lattimer, it’s entirely too late to be playing any more games.” The others nod their heads in agreement and speak briefly among themselves in hushed tones. As if in unison, they cease and begin staring at Lattimer again.

“I... I’m not really sure what you’re getting at sir,” Lattimer says nervously.

“Oh come on now, Lattimer, we’re all adults here,” he says, impatience in his voice. “We’ve all been around the block more than just a few times. Just cut the shenanigens and tell us exactly what happened up there!”

Lattimer scans the room again. He senses the growing impatience all around him. “Mr. Snyder had a heart attack,” he says flatly. I guess he wasn’t accustomed to the atmosphere...”

“ENOUGH!” shouts Treinwood as he stands up and puts his hands squarely on the table. “You won’t say it, so I’ll say it for you! YOU are directly responsible for Mr. Snyder’s condition. YOU and you alone! Why? Because you changed the plans up there without his consent! How do I know this?” He leans forward, looking Lattimer squarely in the eyes. “Because Mr. Snyder told me so himself, just before he lapsed into a coma.” Treinwood pounds the desk with his fist and stands up straight. “You thought you were going to get away with something, didn’t you, Dr. Lattimer?” Lattimer just looks at him in complete shock. Treinwood places his curled index finger below his lips and scrutinizes Lattimer. “I tell you what we should do with you, Dr. Lattimer. We should fire you, and we should ruin you. That’s what we should do. What we could do is send you to prison for any number of charges like misappropriation of funds and fraud.”

Lattimer begins shaking uncontrollably, his forehead glistening with moisture. “Listen Mr. Treinwood,” he says pleading, “I ...”

“But here’s what we are going to do, Dr. Lattimer,” Treinwood interrupts. “We are going to let you continue to reel out more of this rope you require in order to hang yourself. You initiated these changes without anybody’s consent. So you are directly responsible for the consequences…you and you alone. Exactly how much of the investors’ money have you spent on this infernal elevator shaft of yours?” he asks.

Lattimer looks like a man that just relieved himself on the carpet. “I... I’m not sure, right off the top of my head,” he says still shaking.

Treinwood puts his hands back down on the table and stares a hole right through Lattimer. “Well, you replace out, Mister, and you have the numbers on my desk first thing tomorrow morning!”

“Ye... es, yes sir!” Lattimer whispers in a low, hoarse voice. “Right away sir!”

Treinwood stands back up, “Now sir, please leave. We have additional business to contend with.”

Lattimer scans the room again, not sure what to do next. He gets up slowly, then, like prey trying to escape a hungry wolf pack he gingerly picks up speed and hustles out the door, shutting it quietly behind him. He leans up against the hallway with his head against it, placing the back of his hand against his forehead, breathing heavily. But after a minute or two, he starts to develop a grin and chuckles slightly. He starts to wobble down the hall, his energy spent. Jose sees him as he approaches the foyer.

“Boss! Boss!” he says, “Are you all right? Did they fire you? What happened in there, man?”

Lattimer puts his arm around Jose and begins to relax as they head for the elevator that will take them to ground level in the central atrium. “Jose, my man. It was like being in Hell itself. But I pulled it off. I actually pulled it off.”

“What do you mean, boss? You mean they’re not gonna fire you? After what you did?”

Lattimer grins and shakes his head. “I mean exactly that, my main man!”

Jose looks at Lattimer, first with astonishment, then awe. “You are unbelievable, boss! Incredible! Any other mere mortal would have had his head cut off by now!” Jose shakes in head in bewilderment as they enter the elevator.

As the doors close Lattimer turns to Jose, “You know Jose, I think I know what it is. They know I’ve got more balls than all of them put together and secretly, they admire that.”

Jose just shakes his head, chuckles, and looks at Lattimer nodding. “You got something all right, boss.” Their voices trail off as the elevator begins its descent.

It has been six months since Snyder’s heart attack. Fortunately for him at the time, Upper New Everest had completed a fully staffed emergency facility for just such an occasion. Lattimer and Jose had phoned for help as they were coming down the elevator, and upon exiting it were soon met with a stretcher upon which Snyder was laid and put into an emergency vehicle for the quick trip to the medical facility. Snyder was now convalescing at his home in Snyderville. He has recently regained consciousness and is trying to become cognizant of what is going on around him.

“Nurse! Nurse! Confound it! Where is my telephone? Nurrsse!” Snyder rings out.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, Mr. Snyder!” says the nurse breathlessly. “Now Mr. Snyder, you must calm down if you’re going to continue to get better,” she says, admonishing him gently.

“I’m already better,” he says crankily, then, raises his fist suddenly to stifle a cough.

She looks at him with concern. “Mr. Snyder, you must not get yourself so riled up.”

“Listen,” he interrupts hoarsely, gasping for air, “I need my phone, can you get it for me?” Then, softening his tone, says, “Please?”

She glares at him, her fists on her hips. Feigning disgust, she picks the phone up off his blanket and hands it to him.

“Here it is.” she says. “Right where you left it!”

He looks at her with exasperation and says, “Thank you.”

“Is there anything else?” she asks.

Snyder manages a tired smile. “No. Thanks again, Miss Weston.” As he punches in some numbers she straightens his blanket, then, walks daintily out of the room. A voice emerges on the other end of the line, and Snyder begins to speak. “Snyder here. Yeah, thanks, I am doing better. Thanks for asking. Listen, what’s going on with the tram? Have you got a new contractor yet?” Snyder stops to listen. “Well, when will you know?” Looking a little worried and confused, he sits up straight in the bed, scratching the back of his head. “Where is Treinwood?” Snyder listens intently to the voice on the other end of the line. “When he gets back, have him call me, ok? Yeah, thanks.” He clicks the phone shut as the nurse comes back in.

“Is everything all right, Mr. Snyder?”

Snyder ignores her, staring out into space. Suddenly he looks at her and responds, “Uh, yeah. Everything’s just fine,” a note of concern and doubt in his voice. He turns back to look at nothing in particular and begins patting the phone back and forth against the palm of his hand, saying to himself, “What’s going on here, anyhow?”

“The last section of the shaft is sealed up, boss,” Jose says to Lattimer as he emerges from the elevator shaft at Upper New Everest.

“Good!” says Lattimer. “Let’s give the alloy composite time to cure and we’ll inspect it for any leaks or flaws tomorrow.” They hop into an electric car with a driver on hand and hold onto their hard hats as he whisks them away to Lattimer’s Upper New Everest office. The two men sit silently for a while and then start to speak at the same time. They stop, and then start again; this time laughing at themselves on how synchronized in thought and deed they had become over the years.

“You go ahead, boss.” Jose laughs, “I probably already know what you’re gonna say anyway.”

“You probably do,” Lattimer says in mocking disgust. He hesitates, and then both men begin to speak again. They turn away from each other, shaking their heads and grinning.

“I tell you what, boss,” Jose says. “This is getting scary.” Lattimer nods his head in agreement. They continue on in silence. They start to speak at the same time again and Lattimer puts his index finger up to his lips to silence Jose.

“I tell you, Jose, a guy can’t get a word in edgewise with you!”

“Boss, I have to ask you.” Jose interjects with a worried tone, “What are we gonna do about Snyder?”

Lattimer looks straight ahead, concern in his eyes. “I’ve thought about that Jose... for some time now.”

“What if he explodes again?” Jose asks.

Lattimer pauses to reflect. “Jose, there’s really nothing Snyder can do about it at this point. It’s really out of his hands.”

“You really think so, boss?” Jose asks.

“I know so, Jose,” Lattimer says emphatically.

Jose nods his head in understanding and the two men continue silently down the main lane of Upper New Everest.

The next day, Lattimer and Jose, accompanied by two construction workers enter the elevator to complete the inspection of the final leg of the shaft.

“Going up?” Jose asks Lattimer, smiling.

The other two men, hands on hips, begin to chuckle. The single curved door slides shut and a green light comes on, indicating they are ready for movement. The elevator begins to move imperceptibly at first, and then gradually accelerates. Because there are no floor numbers, there is no real sense of time and distance; only the steady, muffled whirr of pinion gears outside rolling along gear racks. After several minutes, the elevator begins to slow to a stop.

“Well, that’s 500 feet,” says Lattimer. “On to number two.” Suddenly the elevator car begins to roll horizontally!

“I can’t get over how cool this system is boss,” says Jose smiling.

The car rolls through the short tunnel into the next vertical shaft. It slows to a halt and then begins its upward ascent for another 500 feet. When the car stops again, it rolls horizontally into a tunnel in the opposite direction until it enters another vertical shaft where it stops and is once again elevated another 500 feet. This 500 foot alternating pattern of vertical shafts and horizontal connecting tunnels continues on upward until Everest Heights is reached at an astonishing altitude of 28,500 feet, only 535 feet from the summit!

The elevator system Lattimer has created is unlike anything ever built before. But then again, this isn’t just another skyscraper! The passenger elevator system is built on a minimalist design to avoid the time and expense of cutting out more than one shaft for passengers. For safety reasons, the passenger shaft is separated into seven, 500-foot vertical sections, offset from each other in a zigzag fashion so any vertical drop is “only” 500 feet. It is an ingenious design, even for Lattimer. The passengers will enter a self-contained, heated, pressurized elevator car that is pushed up or lowered down the shafts by an electric self-propelled lifter that “crawls” vertically up the shaft using a rack and pinion gear mechanism. Electricity is obtained from the carbon-enriched racks and pinions, similar to an electric train. Once the car hits 500 feet, it literally drives itself off electric rails on top of the lifter onto rails in a short horizontal shaft and onto the rails of a second lifter that either propels the car upward or lowers it. A braking mechanism insures that if a power failure occurs, the car and lifter can be gently lowered back down the shaft by their own weight. Since the shafts are heated and pressurized, the passengers can simply open the door manually, leave the car, and enter the short horizontal shaft next to it. From there they can walk over to the next 500-foot shaft and go either up or down a covered ladder attached to a small semicircular utility shaft carved out of the vertical wall to the next horizontal shaft.

The cleverest aspect of Lattimer’s design is the way it conserves space while maximizing traffic flow in both directions. There is always one passenger car in every 500-foot section at any given point in time for a total of six cars, three are always going up and three are always going down, all automated and computerized. When two cars going in opposite directions enter opposite ends of the same horizontal shaft at the same time, something quite remarkable will happen. One of the cars will back into an extension or “blind” alley of the shaft beyond the intersection of the horizontal and vertical shafts. This spur functions like a garage of sorts, effectively moving one car out of the way of the other so that each is now free to move up or down the shafts. The sheer ingenuity of this design is its saving grace... and Lattimer’s. Its ability to deliver a high volume of goods and passengers back and forth, its superior safety compared to trams exposed to the environment, the savings in time, money and reductions in hazardous drilling more than compensated for its complexity, initial investment increases, and slow-downs in schedule. This is what Lattimer had told the investors in a second meeting. This, coupled with the fact that the project was already well under way convinced them to let him proceed, even without Snyder’s approval.

The 30-foot diameter column sitting beside the smaller passenger column is a utility elevator shaft whose design is in stark contrast to the exotic engineering utilized in the passenger elevator system. This shaft is basically an unheated, unpressurized, 30-foot diameter vertical hole encased in alloy composite that travels all the way from Upper New Everest clear to the top of the mountain! Under the surface of the stainless steel façade is a pair of 30-foot high, sliding doors that serve as an airlock to accommodate the large beams, machinery and other supplies that would be transported from Upper New Everest to the top of the mountain where the tower would be built. Machinery and men in spacesuits would enter the airlock, shut the doors and wait for the 30-foot tall section to be evacuated. Once this was done, the alloy composite roof 30 feet above them would separate into two halves. Each half would move away from the other until the shaft was completely open.

Initially, a set of cables was to run the entire length of the shaft, connected to a 30-foot open cage used to transport workers, equipment and supplies. However, Lattimer, always the innovator, came up with a more ingenious design. A three-foot thick alloy composite disk reinforced on the bottom with strategically placed support struts filled the interior of the column. There were fours sets of pinion gears placed at 90-degree angles around the circumference of the disk. These intermeshed with four adjacent gear racks that traversed the entire length of the column. A 10-foot high protective cylinder was attached above the disk to prevent the workers from contacting the inner wall of the shaft during movement. The elevator was essentially a manually operated, self-motorized, roofless “can” moving up and down the column in the same way as the lifters in the passenger elevator cars. This eliminated the need for a bulky pulley system at the top of the mountain, which would have invariably interfered with the construction of the tower. If there was a power failure, a brake would slow the descent, but there would be no stopping off place, just a 4,000-foot or so vertical drop from the summit to Lower New Everest... or wherever the hapless occupants happened to be at the time.

It has been over three months since Lattimer inspected the last leg of the passenger elevators. It is one o’clock in the morning and the bleary-eyed, unshaven engineer is still pouring over blueprints, notes, and computer printouts. Despite his best efforts, he is getting further and further behind schedule; and he is getting tired, very tired. Chronic stress and fatigue cause men to make mistakes and fuels paranoia. It seems to Lattimer that no matter how many rabbits he pulls out of his hat, no matter how ingenious his accomplishments, no matter what he does, it is never enough; always too little and too late for the investors. Treinwood hovers like a vulture circling wounded prey. It finally begins to dawn on Lattimer that they may really be out to get him... almost wanting him to fail so they can replace an excuse, any excuse, to get rid of him. He knows they despise him. What he had considered to be a courageous, proactive, and assertive act was perceived by them as little more than ruthless, brutal, cocky arrogance; especially the way he had run roughshod over Sam Snyder, forcing them to go along with him for the ride. Sam Snyder was one of “them” and he was not a man to trifle with. He was known for his temper to be sure. But he was also known for his ability to get things done, including getting even! A vision of Jim Johnson in his final act of desperation sends a chill down Lattimer’s spine. Like Treinwood, Lattimer had been horrified by Johnson’s suicide. In contrast, Synder had taken it all in stride, even going so far as to revel in it. No, Sam Synder is definitely not a man to trifle with, but Lattimer has a trump card. He is the only person on earth that understands all the steps in the formulation and manufacturing of the myriad number of parts required for the project. He is the only one because he and he alone understands how to make almost every single one of them from alloy composite. Still, time is running out; and time is money.

Lattimer, holding his head with his hands, groaning, buries his head into the pile of papers beneath him and falls into a deep, fitful sleep.

“Boss, boss wake up! Wake up man!” The voice sounds far-off and surrealistic, as if in a dream. Lattimer feels himself being shaken; he sits up, head spinning and places the palm of his hand to his forehead, resting his elbow on the table.

“What time is it?” he groans.

“It’s 11:00 A.M. boss, the inspectors will be here any minute!”

Lattimer sits up in his chair and lays his head back against it, eyes still shut. He begins rubbing the back of his neck. Eyes half open he turns to look at Jose. “What time did you say it was?”

“It’s after eleven o’clock, the inspectors are here!” Jose says, urgency in his voice.

“The inspectors?” Lattimer says, still groggy. Suddenly it hits him and his eyes pop open as if he had just been branded. “THE INSPECTORS!” He jolts back in his chair so hard it flips over and he hits the back of his head against the floor.

Jose, eyes wide with alarm, comes to his rescue. “Boss, are you OK? Man, that was a hard fall!”

Lattimer groans, attempts to dislodge himself from the chair, but falls back down.

This time, Jose is there to catch his head. “Take it easy, boss man! Let me help you get out of that chair! Just take it easy, ok?” The smaller man grunts as he helps lift Lattimer up to his feet. After Lattimer dusts himself off, he looks up just in time to see three men in hard hats staring out him as if he has just lost his mind. He stares back in awkward dismay.

“Dr. Lattimer, I presume?” one of the men says. “We’re the elevator inspectors.”

Lattimer brushes the back of his hair and tries to regain his composure. He reaches his hand out to the man, who begins to shake it vigorously, smiling. “Greg Thompson here. This is Ken Morris, and Mike Watson.” He says, pointing to the others.

Lattimer begins shaking hands with all the men, smiling and making small talk. “Sorry about the mess gentlemen. I’m afraid you caught me at a rather awkward moment.”

“Yeah, he was sleeping on the job,” Jose, laughs. All the men chuckle in response, including Lattimer, even though he is less than amused by the comment.

“Would you gentlemen like a cup of coffee or a doughnut or something before we get started?”

“We’re just fine sir.” Thompson responds. “However, you might want to get a cup for yourself.”

“Good idea.” Lattimer replies, sheepishly.

“Jose, fix up a pot of coffee for us. We’ll be at the site,” Lattimer says curtly. He is still irritated by Jose’s comment and wants to put him in his place.

“Ok, boss. Whatever you say,” Jose sighs.

“We’ll take the little electric job here,” Lattimer, points to the small electric vehicle Jose was going to use to take them to the site. As they wheel around, Lattimer glances back, “Don’t forget the coffee, Jose!”

“Yeah boss.” he mutters with some resentment in his voice. As they disappear out of sight, Jose removes his helmet and bangs it up against the wall in disgust. “Gringos!” he says with contempt.

Lattimer drags into his office that evening, holding a handful of papers. He stops at the threshold looking at them, then, slaps at them with the back of his hand. “Five violations! Five frickin’ violations.” He turns and yells. “Josee!... Jose...”

“I’m here boss, I’m here!” Jose cuts him off.

Lattimer shoves the papers under Jose’s nose and Jose pushes the papers back. Lattimer looks at him angrily. “Explain this! Explain this to me if you can, sir!” Lattimer says scornfully, striking the papers again as he turns away from Jose.

“I can’t explain it Señor,”

“And why not?” Lattimer asks, still angry.

“Because you won’t... like what I say,” Jose, mumbles under his breath.

Lattimer lowers his head and cranes his neck forward, looking at Jose intently as he asks, “What did you say?”

Jose stares at the floor to avoid eye contact.

Lattimer gets in his face even more. “I said, what did you say?”

Suddenly Jose cuts him off in a short burst of anger. “I said you won’t like what I have to say!”

Lattimer still staring, asks, “And why not?”

Jose looks up at him, sadness in his eyes. “Because the mistakes are yours, Señor, not mine, not the men’s.”

“What are you saying?” Lattimer whispers. “Are you saying I don’t know what I’m doing up here?” He strikes the papers again as he stays focused on Jose who returns to staring at the floor. “Are you saying that a Ph.D. with four degrees in engineering, the inventor of alloy composite, the man that created this entire project out of sheer will is incapable of complying with simple elevator codes?!” his voice crescendos.

Jose turns to look at Lattimer again. “I’m saying Señor Lattimer, that you are a very tired man. And tired men make mistakes. You need rest, Señor. Look at how cranky you’ve become!”

“I’M NOT CRANKY!” Lattimer yells. He pauses, rubs the back of his head and sighs. “Yeah, I’m tired all right! Who wouldn’t be tired? Look at what I have to put up with. Look at all this stupid, ridiculous crap!” He throws the papers up in the air. He turns to look at Jose who appears to be on the verge of tears. Lattimer’s demeanor softens. “I’m sorry, Jose,” he says. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” I’m really sorry.” He walks over and hugs Jose, patting him firmly on the back.

Jose shuts his eyes and begins to whimper. “Dr. Lattimer, you need some rest. I know Richard Treinwood wants your head on a platter. He wants it bad. But if you keep going on like this, you’re gonna give him exactly want he wants!”

Lattimer releases Jose and stands back. “You’re right, Jose. You’re absolutely right. I’m making entirely too many mistakes up here. Listen, You’re still my main man right?” The statement is too much for Jose who burst into tears, sobbing.

Jose straightens up and relaxes a little “You got that right boss man!”

“Ok, ok,” Lattimer says holding his hands up as he tries to calm Jose down.

Jose is spent, overcome with pent-up emotion. He continues bawling. “But, I can’t stand to see you like this boss. You’re killing yourself, and you’re killing me too!”

“Ok, Jose, ok. It’s going to be all right. Listen, I have a plan here.” Jose, sniffles and looks up questioningly at Lattimer, “You hold my calls. You know how to do it. I’ll get some sleep; even if I have to take pills to do it.” Jose nods his head in approval, then, reaches for a Kleenex on the desk and blows his nose.

“I’ll keep em off of you, boss. Don’t worry about that. Just get some sleep, ok?”

“Good enough, Jose.” Lattimer walks back to him and hugs him once more, patting him on the back again. “Buds to the end!?” Lattimer says.

“You got that right, boss!” Jose responds.

Lattimer has learned a hard lesson. The five elevator violations were just the tip of the iceberg. If he does not take better care of himself, the project will falter, investors will lose confidence, and the whole thing will come crashing down around his ears. He thinks about Jim Johnson, Snyder, and the Sherpa and shudders. “What goes around comes around.” But he shakes off the feelings of fear, doom, guilt, and remorse and continues doing what he does best: focus, stay on task, and getting things done in a timely fashion. He has completely revamped the gondola tram and tunnel that travels from Lower to Upper New Everest. The original tram cables and towers have been replaced with cars similar to the ones used in the elevators Lattimer designed. They are self-propelled and use a “floating” rack and pinion gear technology that follows the changing slope of the tunnel as it hugs the Japanese Couloir, traveling up the north face of Everest. This new “tunnel “ is comprised of two parallel tubes of alloy composite with gear racks prefabricated into their base to accommodate the pinion gears of the cars as they move back and forth within the tunnels. As before, the snow, ice, and debris that builds up around the tubes within the trench “flattens out” the surface which helps hold the tubes in place while protecting them from the elements.

Everest Heights has been hewn out in the image of the sister cities that preceded it. Lattimer believes in the old saw “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Take success and duplicate it. He has morphed from a structural engineer into a highly efficient real estate developer. The Lattimer juggernaut is in high gear. But is it enough? Would it ever be enough?

We’re getting to be pretty good at this stuff, aren’t we Jose?” muses Lattimer.

Jose, lips pursed, hands on hips, nods his head slightly in tacit agreement. “We got another one done today, boss,” he says.

“Or at least as done as anything up here can be on any given day,” replies Lattimer.

Jose nods again.

Lattimer slaps his hand to his sides. “Oh well, I suppose we should update everybody, right?”

Jose manages a thin smile. “Everybody’s getting pretty jaded about this whole thing, aren’t they boss?”

Lattimer nods his head in resignation. “Yep. Just think, Jose. We have just completed a brand new city, 28,500 feet up inside the north face of one of the tallest mountains in the world… and does anybody even care?”

Jose shrugs his shoulders and gestures with the palms of his hands. “You know, boss. You’re kind of like that magician, Who...who... uhh,”

“Houdini?” Lattimer answers.

“Yeah, Houdini,” Jose retorts. “You know, I saw an old show about him on TV one time. No matter how great a trick he performed, it was never enough for the audience. They always wanted more and better. One of his friends told him that they would never be satisfied, no matter what he did.”

After an awkward moment of silence, Lattimer finally speaks up. “So... what happened?”

Jose stares straight ahead at nothing in particular. “He dies... trying to give them what they want.”

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